PS: To my pleasant surprise, Halloween was whisper quiet around here this year. The only trick-or-treaters we had were the kids from next door, unlike the last few years where we’ve had so many kids (and some of them way too old to be trick or treating in my opinion) that we’ve all but run out of treats. I’m not a party-pooper, though. Really, I’m not.

PPS: For a softer view of how Halloween has come to be part of our lives now, take a trip to this post on Tummy Mountain’s blog. I think I’m just a cranky pants!

I’ve made a pact. With Kara Elmore. Those of you who know me well, know that I don’t make promises lightly, and once made, I do my best to keep them. Well, Kara, here you go! My boy:

We both noticed that we tend to photograph our girls more than our boys. And Kara’s boy is nine. Already. And nine’s not little anymore. My boy’s only 3. “Nearly four!” I can hear him call out in his sleep as I type. And three, nearly four, is not nearly so little as he used to be. And so we decided we both need to photograph our boys more. And Kara sent me an email that said “This weekend?” And I sent her an email that said “You’re on!” And so, here he is. My boy.

Here is a photo of me taken by my daughter when she was four. And it’s one of my all time favourites!

We bought her a camera for her birthday when she turned four. Just a little point and press. But not a kiddie one. A real one. (Nikon Coolpix 5 megapixel.) We looked at buying her a toy one that actually took photos, but they just looked a bit… well…. pretend. They were expensive, too. In fact the Nikon was comparable in price.

So, we gave her a real camera, turned off the auto flash, and left her to it. We get lots of photos of the ceiling, the TV, her dolls and teddies… and every now and then, we get some real smokers! I LOVE this one of me. So nicely composed. (I haven’t done anything to it, besides adding a watermark and resizing it.) There are some others that I really like, too. I’ll post them some time so you can see what a clever and creative girl we have.

Only down side is she now loves being BEHIND the camera and gets bored when I ask to take photos of her! [SIGH.]

Our two-year-old has just had a birthday and is now a big boy of three. We just had a small family gathering this year. He’s recently started day care, so maybe next year he’ll have a list of friends he’d like to invite to a party, and we could go all out with a themed party like you see many examples of here. This year when I asked him what he’d like to do to celebrate he said, “A party with Mummy and Daddy and H (his sister) and me!”. We invited a few of his cousins, too.

Here’s the image I’m using for his thank you cards. Captures his busy-ness, I reckon!

We had one of THOSE days the other day. You know the ones. Those oh-so-two-year-old days where black is white and up is down. On THOSE days my son (who is normally such a joy to be around) is downright cranky. Nothing I do is right.

“Pick-e-up!” he screams. So I pick him up. “No! No! No, no, no, NO, NO! Don’t pick-e-up!” he cries. So I put him down.

Then he asks for a banana. Every day for the last 1½ years he has asked me to peel and slice his bananas, so I peel and slice one for him. “No! No! Not like THAT!” he yells. “Put it back. Fisk it, mummy!” No matter how hard I try, I just can’t work out how to “fisk” (fix) a sliced banana, and I just have to let him cry that one out.

On THOSE days we mothers* need to dig deep…. so deep… to find the extra reserves of patience we need to parent in a calm and loving manner. Sometimes my well runs dry.

By about 8:30 in the morning.

On this particular one of THOSE days, I was putting my son in the car…. no, actually trying to convince him that he should get in the car so that we could pick up his sister from school. Of course, his idea of getting in the car and my idea of getting in the car are two completely separate thought bubbles. He insisted on standing on that little lip on the edge of the car where the door closes and trying to jump into his car seat, landing on his bottom (which requires a jump, twist and wriggle and has a degree of difficulty of 7.5). After three failed attempts, I spoke before I had put my mental censor into gear:

“I wish you could just get into the car like a normal person!”

“But I can’t, Mummy,” replied my son. “I’m a boy!”

Touché.

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* I’m not being intentionally sexist here. It’s just easier than typing “or fathers, or whoever is the main caregiver” etc, etc, so as to be politically correct.

Yep. Another hat. I can’t take credit for the design of this one. It’s a free pattern from Lincraft. Yarn came from there, too. Stumbled upon it quite by accident. It’s a little large on my daughter, as it’s a ‘one size fits most’ pattern for adults. I really like it, and I might even get a turn at wearing it sometime, if my daughter will allow. (Not that she necessarily wants to wear it….. just that she doesn’t want me to!)

Right. Now I’m off for a nice hot cuppa. (They always go cold while I edit photos….. Oh, and excuse these ones. Just snaps, really. Literally took two minutes of shooting before we jumped in the car to go out for the day.)